


A Meeting of Some Importance

by FruHallbera



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bad Flirting, M/M, Phasma Ships It, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 01:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16923942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FruHallbera/pseuds/FruHallbera
Summary: Kylo Ren may be a lot of things, but a suave romancer of men he is not. For an observant man Hux has his blind spots. Sometimes all you need is a little nudge in the right direction.





	A Meeting of Some Importance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Glass_Oceans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_Oceans/gifts).



> A tumblr prompt: "Stop looking at me like that!"

_“Stop looking at me like that!”_

Ren projects the thought straight into Hux’s mind and to his satisfaction it has the desired effect. Hux flinches and narrows his eyes, an angry flush rising on his cheeks. He turns to glare at Ren and Ren almost squirms under the scrutiny.

Hux eyes him from head to toe, frowning, then continues with his briefing. Ren shifts in his seat, crosses his legs and arms, leans back and does his best to convey that whatever Hux is saying is of no interest to him. It is, actually, Ren has been cooped up in this starsforsaken ship for too long, has been forced to make do with gym and training droids, running the length of the ship. Meditating. Now there’s a chance for proper action, a Resistance base needs vanquishing and Ren ought to be paying attention and providing his insight. He ought to be happy for the distraction, but the thrice-damned General is once again preventing him from showcasing his true abilities.

His flawless control irks Ren to no end. He desires to crush it, make Hux spit and scream with fury, make his show some emotion. So far Ren has managed to only crack the surface, but he is finding his way in slowly but surely. Sooner or later the General must snap. There’s so much power in unrestrained wrath and Ren will have it.

Ren focuses on the thought of power in its abstract form and firmly shuns the other interpretation his treacherous brain conjures up. Hux on his knees, hands on Ren’s thighs, spreading them and leaning closer, mouth open and willing -

Hux’s lips twitch when his gaze falls on Ren again as Ren floats a datapad from the table with a casual wave of his hand. He leans it against his crossed leg and makes a show of scrolling through the provided intel. In truth, he is far more concerned with the strategic placement of the device rather than the strategic nature of the report.

Damn Hux. Damn his face and his eyes and his lips and the way his belt is cinched around his waist and how his jodhpurs fit over the curve of his – Hux’s datapad slides off the edge of the conference table and falls to the floor. It’s clearly not Ren’s doing. He is completely occupied with the report.

The bastard bends at his knees to pick up the fallen device, but the accusing look he throws at Ren makes the Knight adjust the datapad and at the same time surreptitiously his trousers.

Damn Hux.

The meeting drones on, speculating on the defensive strategies of the enemy especially considering the amount of data stored in that particular base.

And now Hux is staring at him, one eyebrow raised, and an expectant look on his face. It transforms smoothly into a sneer when he realizes that Ren has not been paying enough attention to provide an answer to the question he just asked. Hux rolls his eyes and taps on his datapad, conjuring up a holoimage of the base’s blueprint. Ren suppresses the growl threatening to escape his throat. He skims the minds of the officers present, none too gently, to catch up. Hux doesn’t even try to hide his fury when he notices his underlings grimace and rub their temples as Ren visits them all in turn. His pale face gets some colour as angry red blotches appear on his cheeks and his eyes turn dark. Ren squirms and balls his hands into fists, once again thankful for the mask hiding his flushed face.

Ren focuses on the report, forces himself to remain in the present. An arriving message chimes simultaneously on his and Hux’s datapads.

_Cease your flirting. This is important._

Phasma’s thunderous look from across the room makes Ren straighten up in his chair and Hux succumb to a fit of coughing. He fumbles with a glass of water, managing to spill some on the table before gulping more than half of it down in one go. “I’m not – what?” he mouths, bewildered.

Phasma is typing again, shaking her head and exhaling loudly.

_You obviously desire one another. But, perhaps, this is not the correct venue to air those feelings._

Ren regains control of his body and mind. There isn’t such a level of arousal that could withstand Phasma’s wrath, no matter how much attention one might be getting from any number of redheaded, high-ranking First Order officers.

Hux pauses, his mouth opening and eyes widening as he understands what is going on. Then he turns away, slowly, a downright evil light glowing in his eyes. Phasma catches him and glares daggers, pointedly repeating her choices for the trooper units to be sent planetside. Ren nods in agreement, they are all experienced and battle-hardened soldiers who have accompanied him on numerous missions.  Hux approves her decision and begins to move the holo-symbols for the units with flicks of his fingers to illustrate his proposed attack plan. The attending officers lean forwards and nod and voice their opinions. The end result is a strategy that should keep the odds firmly in the First Order’s favour.

Ren remains quiet. He’ll be taking the point but once the situation is under control, he has orders from his Master to follow. The base holds more than a Resistance databank in its vaults.

All this time Hux keeps his attention away from Ren. He even attempts to subtly relay his questions to Ren through Phasma, but she’ll have none of it and simply refuses to partake in their game.

Hux’s datapad falls to the floor twice. The power fluctuates and causes the holoprojection of the base to flicker and turn upside down. A Colonel spills her caf all over the table. The chair Hux is sitting down on mysteriously slides back from under him, and the agility with which he recovers from the near fall has Ren quickly placing his hands on his lap and looking away.

All this, and Hux does not even glance at Ren.

A cheerful double chime from two datapads, only milliseconds apart.

_Stop, now. Take this to your quarters after the meeting’s over. For the sake of us all, you need to sort yourselves out. This is getting out of hand, and I am not willing to risk the safety of my soldiers because you two are getting distracted arguing over who gets to top._

Hux looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel. Ren hunches further down an keeps his eyes on his screen.

_I’ll be on bridge duty, Captain. I thank you not to draw conclusions based on some wild figment of your imagination._

_Two of my Knights are due to arrive soon, I must meet with them._

Phasma visibly restrains herself from slamming her fist on the table.

_ENOUGH! General, sir, I will cover your bridge shift. Lord Ren, I’m sure your Knights will wait for you a little while longer. Just do what needs to be done. Please be advised that I’m not above locking you in this room until you’ve grown up._

Ren feels just as pale as Hux looks. He reaches out on instinct, ready to scramble the memories of anyone looking at them too closely. He finds only the familiar undercurrent of unfocused fear his presence causes, mild boredom and even one unimaginative fantasy featuring the caf-spilling Colonel and her soaked uniform.

Ren knows he shouldn’t. He does it anyway, just to ease his anxiety.

He steps into the fantasy, gives it a tiny nudge and suddenly the Colonel is not in need of helping hands to remove her clothes but in a possession of a whip and a pair of handcuffs. The involuntary whimper and the sudden movement of hands to cover the guilty Major’s lap have Ren smirking in victory and Hux drawing in breath to say something. He changes his mind mid-breath and rubs his hand over his eyes. He begins to wrap the meeting up, finally dismissing the attendees.

Hux switches off the projection and makes to leave the room, walking right behind the Major with a sudden attack of an uncomfortably stiff gait. Ren sees his opening and tries to make a run for it but somehow Phasma has them both corralled and shrinking under her unwavering gaze. She points two fingers at her eyes and then at Ren and Hux, exiting the room with a flourish of her cape.

Hux lowers his datapad from his chest where he has had it clutched as if it would shield him from the Captain’s ire. He turns to Ren, and having his undivided attention fall on him causes something to simultaneously coil tight and unwind in Ren’s guts.

Hux glares at him for a while, then sighs in resignation.

“Your place, or mine?”

 


End file.
